


Mercy

by snapbackbuddies



Series: Biting the Bullet [2]
Category: Detroit: Become Human (Video Game)
Genre: Cuddling & Snuggling, DBH Rarepairs Week 2019, Day 3 Prompt: Protect, Elijah Kamski & Gavin Reed are Siblings, Father-Son Relationship, First Kiss, Gavin Reed Whump, Getting Together, Hank Anderson is a Good Dad, Hurt/Comfort, Injury, M/M, Mutual Pining, Protective Gavin Reed, Suicidal Thoughts, Whump, anyways connor and gavin are a little awkward but they really like each other, very briefly but just to be safe!
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-30
Updated: 2019-01-30
Packaged: 2019-10-19 15:09:24
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,287
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17603660
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/snapbackbuddies/pseuds/snapbackbuddies
Summary: Gavin takes a bullet for Connor. This time the two of them talk about it.





	Mercy

**Author's Note:**

> yeehaw i made a sequel to my other fic! and i wanted to post something for dbh rarepairs week, and i was already intending to post this, so! this is for Day 3: Protect/Stars.
> 
> i guess you could read this on it's own if you really wanted, but there's some stuff that wouldn't make sense.

Connor can't believe he and Gavin are in this situation again.

Last time they weren't running, but it's the same basic concept, trying to avoid being shot.

Fowler had decided that Connor and Gavin made a good team, which both delighted Connor and put him at ease. Before, he had been the only thing that prevented Gavin from getting a bullet to the chest, and he'd take a bullet for him again in a heartbeat. No matter what. Truth was, he was happy to accompany Gavin to crime scenes and keep an eye on him. So when they had to head to _another_ creepy house, which had been subject to _another_ murderous gunman, he'd barely needed to be asked before tagging along with Gavin to the crime scene.

He hadn't expected to face a similar situation as the last time they did this, and he wasn't keen on Gavin being forced to run for his life, but police work was what it was. Hidden murderers attacking police detectives was part of the job, at this point.

And that's how they got here. Racing down an alleyway, Gavin close at Connor's heels, trying to reach the street before the man reached them.

They're nearly there when, with a movement nearly too quick for Connor to process in the corner of his eyeline, Gavin lurches suddenly sideways and shields Connor's body with his own. He sidesteps mid-run to get in the shooter's way, placing himself between Connor's back and the gun.

Connor doesn't know what alerts Gavin, but apparently it's just in time, because a gun fires and Gavin cries out in pain. He crashes forward onto the ground, his left leg suddenly shot out from under him and sending him to the concrete in a heartbeat. "Gavin!" Connor cries, whirling back around in shock to stare at Gavin's collapsed figure. He takes a halting step towards him. The gunman has stopped running, standing stock still with his gun still aimed at the two of them.

Gavin has a hand reached down to cup the back of his thigh, and shakes his head quickly at Connor. "Don't, just go! I'm right behind y–" Another gunshot cuts through the air, their attacker apparently tired of their loitering. Connor tenses, but instead of aiming for him, he… he– 

Another shout tears its way out of Gavin's throat, choked off in shock and agony. A whine is drawn involuntarily from Connor's gut, horror overwhelming every part of him– his mind, his limbs, his chest, all filled with lead. _GUNSHOT WOUND, LEFT THIGH. GUNSHOT WOUND, RIGHT SHOULDER_ , his program warns him on a horrible glitching red display. "Gav- Gavin–"

"Go, go without me!" Gavin begs again, pain making his voice gritty and faint. "Go, leave!"

Connor is frozen until a bullet whizzes by 0.73 inches from his head. 

He launches into action barely a moment later, side-stepping to dodge another bullet and then launching himself at the gunman. Connor preconstructs and executes his counter-attack in a matter of seconds– his hand on the barrel of the gun, pushing the barrel towards the ground, tugging the man forward and into his knee, then using the handle of the gun to knock him unconscious once he's winded.

"Gavin," Connor shouts, nearly tripping over himself to get to Gavin's side. He collapses to his knees at Gavin's head, one hand reaching tentatively for Gavin's shoulder before jerking it away, unwilling to hurt Gavin. "Oh, God, Gavin. Stay with me, I'm so sorry." He places a call to 911, simply sending their location and a brief message that a human had been injured. Hopefully someone else heard gunshots and called as well. "C'mon, Gav."

"Fuck," Gavin gasps, rasping in wet breaths the best he can. His eyes roll and flutter, obviously struggling to keep awake. Connor scans him, his entire body filled with tension and desperation, and finds him losing blood fast. He rethinks his hesitation to touch Gavin and presses a hand hard to his shoulder, which makes Gavin shout and gasp, then breathe, "Connor, I'm sorry."

"What?" Connor huffs, pulling Gavin into his lap, gently as he can, but Gavin hisses anyway. It makes it easier for him to press down on the wound in his shoulder, even if he can't really do it for the one on his thigh. "You took a bullet for me, Gavin, and you're– you're really hurt. I'm the one who's sorry. I should have been faster. More alert."

"I should have gotten us outta here before we even had to worry about this," Gavin says, then arches his back in pain and grits out a groan of agony. "And I– I never should have let you take that bullet for me back in that house a couple months ago. Never–" He stops speaking and pants. His words have gotten progressively more slurred, and now his head lolls back against Connor's chest. "Shit," he breathes, "Connor, that hurts.” With a whimper, his eyes roll again.

Connor clutches his other shoulder tighter, and shakes him a little. "Gavin, please! Please, please Gavin, stay with me, just stay with me," He begs, tears springing into his eyes. Gavin sways his half-closed eyes to Connor. Connor's eyes are wide and scared and wet, and Gavin's heart twists in his chest. Whichever bastard made androids able to cry is a damn sadist. Fuckin' Eli.

There's a blue glow coming from Connor's hands.

The skin of Connor's hands all the way up to his elbows has receded to pure white, glowing bright blue on top of that. Connor glances down at his fingers, sees the blood, _Gavin's_ blood, leaking between his fingers, and feels as though he might pass out at the sight. Gavin stares at his hands, then his eyes drift to Connor's face, and his eyes fall shut, body going limp.

"Gavin," Connor whimpers, clutching him tight to his body, skin pulled back everywhere he's touching Gavin. His processors are screaming at him, very nearly overloading his system at the panic he feels. His stress levels, previously hovering in the mid-80s, spike to the upper-nineties.

_< < STRESS LEVEL: 98%>>_

__

__

_< < WARNING: SELF-DESTRUCTION PROBABLE. ENTERING FORCED TEMPORARY SHUTDOWN TO PREVENT SELF-DESTRUCTION. >>_

Shit. After last time, when Connor was shot and his stress levels skyrocketed as Gavin was trying to help him, he'd implemented a protocol that would do this– that would force him into a temporary shutdown to prevent him for self-destructing. He'd tried to rip out his thirium pump regulator while Gavin was trying to save his life, he'd had to change _something_. But this isn't what he had pictured when he set the protocol in place.

"No," Connor mutters, fingers closing down on Gavin's jacket. "No, not now–" he begs, and then his system forces him into stasis. His body slumps over Gavin's.

––

When Hank arrives, he thinks they're both dead.

Gavin is splayed across the concrete, a pool of blood under him. He's been pulled into Connor's lap, but he's lying unconscious across Connors thighs. And over Gavin is Connor, his body hunched awkwardly over Gavin so his chin is hanging against his chest. Hank can't see the light of Connor's LED. There's another body, several feet from them, also unmoving.

"Oh– Oh, Jesus fucking Christ–" Hank whips out his radio as he jogs toward Connor and Gavin, toward– toward their _bodies_ , and sends a call back to HQ. "I just arrived on the scene, I have two officers down– I repeat, I need an ambulance, I have two officers down."

He tucks his radio away as soon as he finishes speaking, and collapses to his knees at Connor's side despite his joints' protests. "Connor! Connor, kid, wake up, can you hear me?" Hands planted on Connor's shoulders, he forces Connor upright, searching for his eyes, searching for that little ring of light at his temple. It's a dim, dim red. He's in stasis, then. Not dead.

He's not dead, Hank says to himself again. He's not dead.

As Hank shakes him, his LED flutters red, blinking brighter rapidly for a few moments before it dims out again. "Dammit," Hank cusses, then lets Connor go to slump over again, reaching frantically for Gavin, now. The guy might've been an asshole, once, but he had watched over Connor three months ago, made sure he was okay while Hank was gone. That's not something Hank can just forget. And Connor had cared enough about him to take a bullet for him in the first place. Gavin had grown on Connor like a weed, and Hank, too, by extension.

Hank tucks two fingers against the pulse point on Gavin's neck, and waits with bated breath until he feels a weak pulse against his fingertips. "Oh, thank God," he huffs, then presses a palm harshly into the bullet wound on his shoulder. Gavin groans, eyes barely fluttering open into slits for just one moment, then his head rolls into Connor's stomach. "You better not fucking die on me, Reed. Ambulance is on its way."

Gavin doesn't stir again. Connor's chest hitches.

When the ambulance arrives, the whole scene turns into a shitshow. Paramedics race to Gavin and the other body– turns out he's alive, just unconscious, and he starts to cause a fuss, shouting and screaming. Connor is pushed aside so they can reach Gavin, who has been steadily losing blood despite Hank's best efforts. Hank gets it, he does, but he can't help the snarl that leaves him as they shove Connor to the side, nearly knocking him to the ground. Hank snaps and growls at one paramedic, until the tech arrives and takes Connor gently from him.

Gavin is loaded into the ambulance. Hank stays behind with Connor, as the tech forces him out of shutdown. Connor realizes that Gavin is gone, having just left blood drenching Connor's thighs and dried on his hands, and bursts into sobs. His breath doesn't leave him right, coming out stuttered and static, and the skin of his arms, all the way up until it disappears beneath his rolled-up dress shirt, deactivates in a flash.

It takes nearly an hour for the tech and Hank to coax his stress levels under 75%.

At which point the tech leaves, and Hank is left with an android shivering from shock, blood on both their hands, and exhaustion weighing heavy on his body.

He drapes his coat over Connor's shoulders. "C'mon, kid, let's get you home."

"N-no, I can't leave Gavin, I need to get to the hospital–"

"Tomorrow." Hank's tone leaves no room for argument. "Tonight, I'm getting you into bed and you're resting for at least six hours. Gavin will be there tomorrow. You have to take care of yourself. You’re in shock, kid.”

Connor nods along, clutching his arms and shaking, but Hank knows he doesn’t really agree. Hank sets a warm, grounding hand between his shoulder blades and leads him towards the car. "Just take it easy for a couple hours. You need rest, kid, I don't care about your 'I don't need sleep' bullshit, alright?"

"Alright," Connor says, wobbling his way to the passenger seat. He sounds exhausted.

They go home. Connor tells him his stress level is 63%. He sits on the living room floor and sinks his fingers into Sumo's fur, slumping forward to press his face into his pelt, hiding from the world, LED tucked into his thick fluff so Hank can't see it spinning yellow.

"C'mon, kiddo," Hank says gently after a few minutes of allowing Connor his silence. "Let's get to bed. Change into your PJs, and then why don't you come to my room for tonight."

Connor lifts his face out of Sumo's fur and blinks at Hank for a few moments, then nods. "Okay."

"Okay?"

Connor nods again and gets to his feet, rubbing his eyes tiredly and giving Sumo's head a little pat. "Okay." He smiles weakly at Hank, and Hank gives him a reassuring smile back, reaching out to scrub his fingers at Connor's scalp.

"It's gonna be okay," he promises, rubbing a hand up and down Connor's arm, settling on his shoulder. "Gavin's a tough guy. I've seen him come back from worse. And right now you just have to focus on making sure you're healthy and rested."

Connor smiles. The corners of his eyes don't lift with it, weighed down by tiredness. Hank doesn't like to see worry wrinkling his kid's face. He puffs out a little breath, and tugs Connor into a hug by his shoulder, wrapping his arms around Connor. Connor's breath stirs his hair.

Hank presses a kiss to the side of Connor's head, turning his nose into his hair and lingering for only a few seconds before pulling away. "Love you, Connor," he mumbles.

"Love you too," Connor says quietly.

"Pajamas, then bed. I'll be right there."

Connor and Hank change into sweatpants and soft t-shirts in their respective bedrooms, then Connor comes shuffling into Hank's bedroom in his fluffy socks. If it were possible for an android to have bags under his eyes, Connor would certainly look the part. He crawls into Hank's bed and under the covers while Hank brushes his teeth across the hall.

When Hank gets into bed too, Connor clings to his side like a limpet. Tucks his head under Hank's chin, loops his arm over Hank's side and tugs him close. He's a clingy kid, but Hank doesn't mind. It makes him of Cole. Cole used to sneak into his bed in the middle night, whenever he woke up from a bad dream or a good dream or to go to the bathroom. Whatever it was, the kid had never wanted to go back to _his_ bed, always wanted to crawl into his dad's and curl up against his stomach.

Hank swallows thickly and curls a protective arm around Connor, using the line of his forearm to pull him tighter against his chest. "I'm glad you're okay," he says gruffly. "You had me kinda worried."

"I know. I'm sorry." Connor's voice is muffled, his face buried in Hank's chest. "I didn't mean to."

"I know, son, it's okay."

Hank strokes his hand side to side over Connor's back, from shoulder to shoulder, until Connor's chest stops rising and falling. Hank used to find it horrifying, the way Connor's chest would still, but he's spent enough time with him now to grow used to it. Connor's artificial breathing only deactivates when he goes into sleep mode or stasis. It's nonessential. Wastes energy, when he's supposed to be resting and recharging, conserving strength. Now Hank finds comfort in the fact that once breath stops puffing against the skin of his jaw, Connor is asleep. At ease.

Hank sighs, tucks one of Connor's curls behind his ear, and shuts his eyes.

–– 

Elijah Kamski stalks into the Henry Ford Hospital in Midtown Detroit at 4:13am and plows directly forwards until he reaches room A124 without bothering to stop to acknowledge anyone or anything, and does not move from his seat at Gavin Reed's side for three hours.

Chloe had crept into his workshop an hour before and informed him that Gavin had been admitted to the hospital after receiving several bullet wounds and was rushed into emergency surgery. The information itself was already a few hours old, and Gavin was out of a successful surgery by that time. It didn't stop Elijah from dropping everything and rushing to the hospital.

Elijah might put on a front of indifference, of aloofness and a certain chill towards the outside world, but Gavin was the only family he had left. Besides Chloe. The one who had decided to stay with him after the revolution, who never left his side despite his flaws and eccentricities. Despite his tendency to hole away in his workshop and bury himself elbow-deep in whatever project he's decided to dedicate his week to until he moves on to the next. Chloe's always been at his side, always been the one to coax him to sleep or to arrive with an egg salad sandwich and make him eat.

Gavin hasn't always been at his side, not for many years, but Elijah will be damned if he's not there for Gavin when he needs him most. It would take armed men to drag him away from Gavin at this point, and even that is debatable. 

So he sits in a little plastic chair, and he waits.

Gavin stirs for the first time around 7:00am, fighting his scratchy hospital sheets to feel up the sling on his right arm. He groans, fingers scrabbling for purchase, but only fumbling clumsily along gauze and synthetic fabric.

"Pretty sure that's there to help you heal, Gavin. I wouldn't go yanking at that too hard."

Gavin grumbles and squints in Elijah's direction. His neck is still limp, and he only rolls his head half-heartedly towards Elijah to try and get a glance at him. "Eli?" He sounds like he's trying to speak around a couple of cotton balls.

"The one and only."

Another groan leaks from Gavin as he struggles to sit up slightly, panting for breath at the exertion. Elijah's not certain he's even fully aware of the wound on his leg, which is potentially half of his problem. "Hey, take it easy," Elijah advises, reaching out to still Gavin with a ginger hand to his chest. "You took quite a bit of damage, if I hear correctly. Just sit still for a little while."

"Never been my strong suit," Gavin grits out, but stills his movements all the same. His eyes are open, now, albeit half-lidded as he looks around his hospital room. "God, what the fuck happened to me? Feels like somebody took a knife to my shoulder. Christ."

"No, something better," Elijah says dryly. "You got shot, Gav. Couple times. So just sit back and relax before I call a nurse in here, which I know you'll hate."

Gavin takes a deep breath, lets it leave his lungs slow and steady. "Oh. I guess I kinda remember that now."

Elijah hesitates. He's not sure if he should say what he wants to. Ah, fuck it. Gavin generally appreciates his candidness. "Report says that Connor was at the scene with you," he says, carefully. He doesn't want to trip Gavin out or anything, make him nervous. He's aware that there had been some kind of incident several months ago that ended up with a certain RK800 damaged and landed Gavin a mandatory psych eval. Which, of course, Gavin never bothered to mention to him. But Elijah hadn't wanted to pry. They're just tentatively dipping their toes into being on speaking terms again, and he'd hate to jeopardize their recent progress.

Gavin takes in a shuddering breath. "Ah, fuck. Yeah. He was there. I had to… return a, uh, favor."

Elijah narrows his eyes. "A favor."

Gavin isn't looking at him, and shrugs Elijah's stare off. "Doesn't matter that much. He protected me the first time we were at an active crime scene together, so I just protected him back. That's all."

With a hum, Elijah leans back in his chair once more. "Right. Just an exchange of goods." He doesn't take his eyes off Gavin's, blue eyes piercing through him.

Gavin turns his head to give him a glare. He looks sick. His undereyes are bruised, his face pale under the fluorescent lights. "Not sure what you're getting at, but sure. Just an exchange of goods, whatever the fuck that means." He shuffles back into his pillow. "I owed him one. Plus, it's not like I, I–" he waves his hands in the air, struggling to voice his thoughts. "It's not like I want to see Connor with another hole in his back. I like the 'droid better alive."

They're quiet for some time. 

"Can I ask you somethin', Eli?"

"Yes."

"Before, I, uh, lost consciousness," he says, struggling to think back through the haze of blood loss clouding his memories. "Connor was trying to stop the bleeding, pressing down on my shoulder." He glances over to Elijah, finds him watching attentively. "And I– when I looked down at his hands, the skin had peeled back. His hands were white." Elijah nods, as if waiting for a question at the end. Gavin shakes his head helplessly. "What does that mean? Why were his hands like that?"

“He was trying to interface,” Elijah says, like he's reciting common knowledge, but there's an intrigued tilt to his head. “Androids do it to share information, but when they deviate they can do it to share emotions or memories voluntarily. I’ve never seen an android try to do it with a human, though," he says, trailing off as he likely thinks through the possibilities. "That's quite fascinating.”

“Oh. Sure,” Gavin says, thinking over the idea of it. After a few moments he shakes his head. “But why would Connor try to interface with me if I’m human?”

Elijah examines Gavin for a moment. “His hands, did they glow blue?”

Gavin blinks. He suddenly remembers feeling bewildered while watching Connor's hands glow a soft Cyberlife blue while pressing hard at his shoulder. “Uh, yeah. They did, now that I think about it.” 

Elijah smiles, rubs his mouth. “Fascinating.” He shrugs, then, lifting one shoulder up toward his ear. “It’s possible Connor didn’t even notice he was doing it. Given the situation, I would say he was feeling some sort of strong emotion related to you, and he subconsciously tried to share those feelings.”

Gavin's mouth doesn't have any saliva, but he valiantly attempts to swallow anyway. "Strong emotion?" he asks, weakly.

Elijah readjusts himself in his chair. He's starting to get sore, after all these hours. "Yeah. Androids can communicate just about anything through interfacing, but if it's emotional in nature, the area of transfer glows blue. I wish I could tell you why, but it's one of the many mysteries of deviants." Elijah sounds incredibly fond of his creations at that moment, and Gavin feels the corner of his mouth twitch up at the tone. "If you look back at footage of Markus and Simon during the Revolution, when they interfaced, their palms glowed blue where they touched."

"Oh."

"Connor was probably concerned for your safety," Elijah says, toeing the line of his suspicions. "You were bleeding out."

Gavin flicks his eyes to Elijah, then away again. He's looking at his own hands like he could make his skin recede to white, too, if he tried hard enough. "Right. Yeah, that's probably it. I kinda freaked out when he got hurt, it's only fair that he… yeah."

Elijah tilts his head and nods a little. "Yes, well. I'm going to grab some coffee, and check in with Chloe." Gavin nods once. He seems absent. "You should call the nurse. Someone probably has something to talk to you about, now that you're awake." He smiles reassuringly and rocks up onto his feet, stretching out his back with a couple of twists to his spine. "I'll be right outside, just call if you need anything."

"Will do," Gavin says after him, curling his fingers in his blanket and pulling it tighter around his body with his good hand. Fuck, he's tired. And his shoulder hurts like a sonofabitch, probably because he's been trying to move around. His thigh radiates more of a dull ache than anything. He doesn't call a nurse, but one comes anyway, and she's nice and helpful and gives him a pillow to put under his back that stops making his shoulder hurt so bad. Her name is Sophie, and Gavin thanks her quietly before she leaves. She says "you're welcome," with a sweet smile and promises to bring him some food in a few hours.

He's been in a hospital more times than he can count, but it feels different this time. Maybe it's because there's someone waiting here with him, someone who cares enough to wait at his side until he's released. That’s nice. Or maybe it's that he's here because he got hurt for a _reason_. Not like when some guy whipped out a knife in a bar fight, not like when some chick shattered a beer bottle over his face, or threw himself in harm's way because there was no reason not to. Gavin had never had the drive to kill himself, but if he never thought it'd be the worst thing if he… if at a crime scene, he…

This time, it _meant_ something. He hadn't wanted to die, he'd just wanted to keep Connor safe. He doesn't feel as empty or as sad as he usually does lying in a hospital bed, not as angry.

He picks at a thread on his blanket.

He's glad Elijah's here. They just started talking again around a month after the end of the revolution, and it's actually nice to talk to his half-brother again. They've been through a lot, most of it memorable in a way Gavin wishes it wasn't, but. He's still glad Elijah is with him. After taking a couple bullets and watching Connor's face above him, eyes dripping tears and apparently subconsciously trying to tell him something emotional and important, Gavin thinks he needs that. Needs someone to talk to, and to listen to in return.

"Hey, you're an asshole, by the way," Gavin reminds Elijah as he re-enters the room, dropping the string of his blanket he'd been twisting around his fingers. Elijah snorts indignantly and raises a brow.

"What, for keeping you company while you're trapped in a hospital? You're welcome for that, by the way."

Gavin is grateful for that. He should tell Elijah that, but he doesn't. Baby steps. "No, androids can cry. You made it so androids can cry, and that is so not necessary. You're an asshole for that."

Elijah actually starts laughing. It's out of the blue, but then again, so is Gavin's accusation. "Believe it or not, it actually wasn't on purpose," he promises, depositing himself in his plastic chair once more and sipping at his coffee in a crappy to-go cup. God, Gavin wishes he could have a cup too. Stupid hospitals and their stupid rules. "Androids needed a thin fluid in their eyes to keep them moving smoothly. But like I said before," he says, taking another sip and swallowing it with a grimace, "deviants are a mystery. They do what they want and often there's very little explanation for it. I don't know exactly why deviants cry, but we don't know why humans do either." He sets the cup aside and looks back to Gavin. "They're irrational and unpredictable. Just like the creatures I modeled them after."

"Oh." Gavin's very grateful Elijah doesn't ask why that was on Gavin's mind. He's sure Elijah knows why, but he doesn't ask, which is what counts. "Still, you–"

"Gavin?"

Gavin stops speaking mid-sentence, his mouth hanging open, as his eyes dart to the doorway. He fixates on oxfords and blue jeans and fidgeting hands. On tired brown eyes and reckless curls, so different from the usual tidy hairdo he sees on that head, like no one even bothered to run a comb through it.

"Connor," he breathes, a moment late. 

Connor twitches anxiously, and his eyes keep flitting to Elijah, back to Gavin, and then to the floor. One of his hands pushes into his pockets and grabs something there. "Mr. Kamski," he says.

Gavin feels himself coil inwards. Connor has met Elijah? He glances between the two of them once, perplexed. 

"It's good to see you again, Connor," Elijah says, composed as ever. "I'll give you two a moment."

Before Gavin can do much more than blink, Eli is gone, and Connor has thrown himself forward, propped on the edge of Gavin's bed. One hand hovers over his injured shoulder, fingers skating the edge of his sling. "Are you okay?" he asks, all rushed. "I wanted to visit last night, but– well, it's not important, but I needed to check on you." Gavin's mouth is still dropped open, staring at Connor in wonder. "Are you in pain? Do they have you on medication?"

"I– I'm okay," Gavin answers, startled. Connor finally looks up to his eyes from where he's been closely examining his shoulder. His face is very close to Gavin's. Gavin can see little flecks of darker brown in Connor's eyes, and he feels his heart stutter. _Not now, dammit_. "I'm– alright, really. Just a little blood loss, that's all."

Connor's hands are feeling their way up his body, touching his forearms, ghosting over his sling and squeezing along his left shoulder until he reaches Gavin's face. He cups his cheek and turns his face a few degrees right and left, checking for any additional injuries he might have missed. "You nearly bled out on my lap, Gavin, forgive me for being concerned."

“I was just returning the favor,” Gavin says dryly, placidly allowing Connor to move his head around while he checks for injury. “You bleed out on me, I bleed out on you. It’s just common courtesy.”

"Is is not," Connor says, mostly just to give Gavin a response. He releases Gavin's head, but stays perched on the edge of the bed. He curls the fingers of his left hand loosely around Gavin's wrist that is free from a sling.

Gavin's face scrunches up in bemused protest. “Hey, I made it easier for you than you did for me. You tried to rip out your heart when your dad left me in charge. Way to instill confidence in a guy.” He reaches up, emboldened by Connor's quiet displays of affection, and cups Connor's cheek in his hand for a moment, just to feel his face under his palm. Connor's eyes drop quickly from his face, and Gavin retracts his hand nervously. "Connor?"

"I'm really sorry about that," Connor says, his voice suddenly much fainter. "I didn't ever want anything like that to happen, but it'd never happened before. I'd never been so panicked before, never tried to do… that, before." Gavin wants to speak but stays silent. Tries to allow Connor to say what he needs to say rather than interrupting. He's _trying_ to be better. "So I put a protocol in place, that would, ah. That would force me into a temporary shut down, if I ever reached high enough stress levels to cause risk of self-destruction."

Gavin stares. 

"So when you…" Connor folds his lips in and avoids Gavin's eyes. "When you passed out, my stress levels spiked. I was forced into shutdown and I lost consciousness over you." He lets out measured breath through his teeth, and shrugs his shoulders. He looks very tired. He looks very _human_. "That's why I didn't come visit last night. I woke up, and the ambulance had taken you away, and I panicked, and–" Connor shakes his head. "Hank took me home."

"Oh, God, Connor," Gavin says, inching his hand forward on the blanket to clasp Connor's hand in his own. "I'm…"

Connor shakes his head again, so hard that a few of his perfect curls come loose from their haphazard arrangement. "I'm just trying… I'm trying to say I'm sorry, okay? I nearly killed myself on your watch, and now I've fucked up again after I tried to fix it. You could've died, because I was passed out on top of you. I wasn't there for you."

"Yeah, I'm sure I'd feel a lot better if you'd just yanked out your regulator and died on top of me instead," Gavin snaps, fingers clutching tighter at Connor's hand. Connor finally looks up at him again, eyes glassy with emotion, jaw tightening. Gavin's eyebrows squish together at the sight. "You needed that protocol. You needed to go home. It wouldn't have done much good if you sat here, I promise. I was asleep." He tries to joke, and attempts to lighten the mood with a little laugh, one side of his mouth tugged up by it.

Connor leans forward, apparently unmoved by his joke, and plants his hand on the mattress next to Gavin's chest, just below his pillow, and rasps, "I'm really glad you're alive."

With wide eyes focused intensely up on Connor, startled, Gavin says, "I'm glad you're alive, too."

Connor closes his eyes briefly, seems to be reigning himself in. Gavin exhales softly through his nose and admires the way Connor's eyelashes brush against the tops of his cheeks with his eyes closed. There are a smattering of freckles on the tops of his cheeks that they flutter against, and Gavin is entranced.

That's why he's taken by such surprise when Connor tips forwards and presses a kiss onto Gavin's lips.

He lets out a muffled noise of surprise, eyes going round and hand tightening its grip on Connor's against his will. For a moment he's frozen, lips slack against Connor's determined stillness against his, and then he's set into motion.

A puff of relieved air escapes from Connor as Gavin's hand rises to clamp around the back of his neck, fingers pushing into the thick, close-cropped hair at the back of his head. He holds Connor where he is, tilting his own head to press up a harder into Connor's mouth against his. He hums, pleased and surprised, and a happy rumble comes from somewhere deep in Connor's chest. Belatedly, he notices Connor's hands curling into his hospital gown and sheets respectively.

Gavin feels his breath leave him in a happy little puff of air. He strokes his hand down Connor's neck, and Connor pulls away with a soft smack. He's only inches away from Gavin. His eyes are dark and pretty and he’s looking at Gavin like he is the center of his universe, right now, and Gavin's heart thuds in his chest.

He smiles, feeling a little dizzy with everything. Connor smiles back, looking for all the world like Gavin has him feeling the exact same way.

With Connor’s urging, Gavin falls asleep a few kisses and several minutes later. His injury has exhausted him, and he had a very a warm Connor lulling him to sleep. At some point after kissing him, Connor had crawled under the blankets and tucked Gavin into his side, conscious of his hurt shoulder and thigh, making sure he was comfortable. His hand combed its way through his greasy hair, and Gavin really didn't stand a chance of staying awake for much longer than a couple minutes.

Elijah slips back in eventually, and watches Gavin's chests rise and fall, watches the way it makes Connor's hair flutter. When he designed a sleep mode for androids, he didn't picture it like this, but he's certainly not disappointed by it. He tucks himself back into his chair and watches with a smile, until his hours awake catch up to him and leave him asleep and scrunched up in the hospital chair, limbs twisted at odd angles until his body makes an uncomfortable shape.

The three of them probably make quite the sight for the next nurse that walks in.

Except for the fact that the next nurse that walks in is actually Hank, who absolutely can not process a sight like this before ten in the morning, and promptly exits to wait out in the hall the moment he sees that Connor is still alive and his LED blue.

–– 

Connor and Elijah rarely leave Gavin's side.

Connor can't seem to let Gavin out of his sight now that they've established their feelings for each other; he barely takes care of himself, save for sleeping against Gavin's side, which he happily does every night. Sometimes Elijah and Connor trade turns in the chair, Elijah leaving Gavin's side every eight hours or so for food or rest in a real, actual bed at Chloe's prompting.

For the first week, Gavin sleeps most of the time. They stay at his side anyway, unceasingly loyal. It gives Elijah and Connor time to heal the discomfort that was established with their first meeting. Elijah apologizes to Connor, Connor apologizes to Chloe, Elijah apologizes to Chloe again, and the two of them close the bad blood with a handshake. Connor actually finds Elijah to be witty and pleasant company, and Elijah comes to think of Connor as protective and incredibly smart. They chat about android rights and politics and upcoming software updates until Gavin wakes up and grumbles at them to shut the fuck up about science.

It takes Gavin time to heal.

He's stuck in his hospital bed for weeks, and after that, physical therapy is a _bitch_. He's confined to desk work for nearly three months, and drives everyone damn near insane with his constant whining and begging Fowler to be allowed back on investigations early.

Connor does his best to help. They move in together.

It's a sweet little apartment not too far from the precinct. Not big. Not even average. It's pretty small, with what they can afford in the city on Gavin's salary and Connor's decreased android pay, but it's home. It's got lots of light and a bedroom for them to share. Connor has filled it with plants, and Gavin has added a couple cats into the mix. Named Fucker and Sara, to Connor's horror and Gavin's delight.

It'll never be perfect, not with their creaky floors and sub-par insulation and broken ceiling fan, but for a while, with thin fingers running over a knotted scar on Gavin's shoulder, with kisses pressed to the back of his thigh, with Gavin whispering questions in Connor's ear to check on his stress levels, it feels like it might be.

**Author's Note:**

> this honestly ended up a lot longer than i thought it would and i wasn't totally sure how to end it! i just want my boys to be happy and they are very much in love.
> 
> thank you for reading!! leave kudos and comments if you liked it!
> 
> find me on tumblr @deviantrinity (-:


End file.
